FicWad

The first time it happened I tried not to think much of it, he’d had a bad day at the office, one to many with the guys that night. But despite this I could still remember the feeling of his palm against my cheek, the callous words he had whispered in my ear, I couldn’t forget what he had done to me that night, no matter how many lame excuses I came up with.
I didn’t cry then and I don’t cry now, I didn’t ask questions then and I don’t ask questions now. I tried avoiding him, but he always found me, even in my once pleasant dreams he was there hanging over me, haunting me from day to night and from night to day, he never left and to be honest I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone.
*****
She sat there, just sitting, listening. She ran her fingers over her once pale skin, now splattered with black and blue bruises, the cut on her lip was healing but her once perfect nose still felt slightly off angle. As soon as she heard the breathing in the next room pick up to a natural even beat, she rose brushing her long auburn hair out of her eyes and stepped out onto a tiny balcony. She leant over the edge breathing deeply surveying the streets below her. The warmth of the summer was now long gone and she shivered in the October breeze. She stayed like that for over an hour watching the shadows of passing cars dance in the street lamplight. She knew if he found her out here he wouldn’t be happy but at that moment she didn’t care. It was only now in the early morning on that balcony, where she could listen to the rest of the world that she forgot her problems.
Finally she rose and walked to the door, leading back into the flat. As she stepped through it she turned around and smiled: she had always loved London at night. She closed the door silently so not to wake the man lying in the other room. She padded around the flat, picking up papers and old dishes, she paused as she reached the mantle piece containing photos of her, of him, of them that she realised they had been together for almost two years, the two best and worst years of he life. She knew what she wanted to do, she had thought of it so many times but now she was sure she could do it, well almost. She turned and walked down the hallway to the front door pausing only to slip a pair of battered black pumps on her feet and to pick up his wallet and car keys. Slipping through the door she sighed deeply and then began to jog down the hallway towards the stairwell.
As she reached the street outside, she turned once more. Looking back at the building that held so many secrets. She knew, deep down that she would come back; she always did because no matter what he did to her, no matter how hard he hit her, she could never stop loving him, never.